


Charlotte West

by wheel_pen



Series: Agent and Doctor [24]
Category: The Bourne Legacy (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, Spies & Secret Agents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-08
Updated: 2015-02-08
Packaged: 2018-03-11 00:44:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3309377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wheel_pen/pseuds/wheel_pen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jeremy requests that Rachel travel to a foreign safe house to attend the unauthorized passenger he rescued on a mission—his former partner and fellow agent, Charlotte West, who was thought to be dead. </p><p>This story is unfinished. Consider it a bonus idea that may never have happened.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Charlotte West

“ _Jeremy Green requesting evac from Sector 52_ ,” Leith reported.

“Granted,” Quarles replied automatically, barely looking up from his paperwork.

“ _Sir, Green says he needs medical attention_ ,” Leith added.

Unfortunate but not unexpected. “Where’s the nearest safe house?” Quarles asked.

“ _There’s one in Sofia_ ,” Leith told him. “ _It’s still several hours away_.”

“Send the address to the evac unit,” Quarles ordered, “and tell the safe house to bring in a doctor.” Hopefully the evac unit’s first aid training would suffice for the journey to Sofia.

For a couple minutes the Director had the luxury of thinking that was all there was to it. Then Leith interrupted again. “ _Sir, Green says he has a passenger,_ that’s _who needs medical attention_.”

Throwing down his pen with a sigh Quarles finally went out to the monitoring room. “Sorry, sir,” Leith apologized. “The message was garbled. Also,” he added hesitantly, “Green wants Dr. Ward to meet them at the safe house, to attend the passenger.”

Quarles rolled his eyes at the impractical request. “Who’s the passenger?” he demanded. That was not in the plan.

Leith sent the question and they both waited tensely for a reply. After a few moments a grainy cell phone image was sent back. Quarles squinted at it, then his eyes widened. “That’s Charlotte West,” he realized, stunned.

“Facial recognition confirmed,” Leith agreed as the database brought up her file. The name meant little to him.

“Put Ward on a plane,” Quarles ordered.

**

“Yeah, we don’t get this much excitement around here normally,” Michaels admitted as he led Rachel through the maze of corridors at the heart of the nondescript building in downtown Sofia. “The two of them came in a couple hours ago and he won’t let anyone near. HQ said to keep hands off until you got here.”

“Yeah, he’s—very cautious sometimes,” Rachel agreed vaguely. She wasn’t trying to be secretive, she just really didn’t know much—the last few hours were a total blur of airplanes and unmarked black cars, though remarkably hassle-free in terms of bureaucracy.

“There he is,” Michaels indicated, as Jeremy paced back and forth in an exam room on the other side of a large window. “He likes to pace.”

“Yes,” Rachel agreed dryly.

Michaels keyed in a code at the door and it hissed open. As soon as they stepped into the room Jeremy pulled a gun on them, which caused Michaels to pull a gun on _him_ , which caused Jeremy to pull a _second_ gun. And three drawn guns was about four too many for Rachel.

“Chal—“

“Jeremy, cut the c—p,” Rachel snapped. “I don’t know what day it is, I don’t know what country I’m in, except nobody speaks English or can make a decent cup of coffee, so get that d—n gun out of my face and tell me what’s wrong.”

Jeremy lowered both guns. “It’s her,” he decided.

“Thank you,” Rachel told him sarcastically.

Michaels was less certain. “Maybe I should stay—“

“Out,” Jeremy ordered him.

“It’s okay,” Rachel assured him, setting down her bags with a sigh. Michaels retreated and Jeremy locked the door behind him. Then he ejected the ammunition from both guns onto a side table and set them down.

“Drop your cartridge, she won’t treat you if you have a gun,” he warned someone, and there was a clank behind the half-closed bathroom door.

“That seems like a sound policy,” said a woman, emerging shakily into the main room. She was younger than Rachel had expected (though she’d been given little information to form expectations _with_ ), maybe late twenties, with a heart-shaped face and blond hair streaked with blood and dirt.

Jeremy went to her immediately and picked her up delicately, like she was made of fine china, and carried her to the exam table. “Gunshot wound, through-and-through, no indication of organ damage,” he reported clinically, indicating the bloodied bandage just above the woman’s left hip.

Rachel snapped some gloves on. “Okay. Turn her on her side.” She peeled away the shirt and field dressing to look at the wound.

“You have to say ‘ow’ when she touches something that hurts,” Jeremy told the woman earnestly, “so she can diagnose the injury.”

“I’m one big ow right now,” the woman responded with grim amusement.

“It looks clean,” Rachel confirmed, reaching for a syringe. “I’ll give you some local anesthetic and start stitching you up.”

“That would be great.”

“Any other major injuries?” Rachel questioned as she worked.

The woman smiled exhaustedly. “Define major.”

“You have to give her a number to describe your pain,” Jeremy explained, hovering. “One for no pain, ten for the worst pain you’ve ever experienced. But don’t go past two decimal points.”

The woman smiled fondly at him. “The gunshot’s the worst,” she told Rachel. “Scratches, bruises, pulled muscles.”

“She might have to check your eyes,” Jeremy warned. “But she won’t take too long, she knows they’re sensitive to light.”

“Jeremy, could you take her clothes off while I do this?” Rachel requested, trying to focus him on something useful. “If you don’t mind,” she added to the woman, who didn’t.

“I’m Charlotte, by the way,” the woman went on, relaxing as the anesthetic kicked in.

“Rachel Ward,” Rachel introduced. “Cover her up with one of those sheets, Jeremy. Don’t worry,” she added in a reassuring tone, “I’ll have this stitched up in no time.”

“Thanks,” Charlotte replied.

“Good,” answered Jeremy at the same time.

“Jeremy, could you get us something to eat?” Rachel asked him as he started hovering again. “And see if Michaels has some clothes for Charlotte. If not you can wear some of mine.”

“Sharing clothes would confuse the identification,” Jeremy warned with a frown.

“Well, apparently Jeremy would rather you go naked,” Rachel commented lightly.

“I know he would,” Charlotte replied, and actually chuckled.

Jeremy did not appreciate the humor of the situation. “Well, I’ll check,” he allowed, heading for the door.

“Thank you, Han Solo,” Rachel told him, and Charlotte chuckled again.

“It’s the jacket, isn’t it?” she guessed playfully. The door slid shut behind him and Charlotte sighed.

“Any other injuries you want to tell me about?” Rachel asked delicately.

“None you can help me with, Dr. Ward,” Charlotte responded, but she seemed to appreciate the gesture. “Thank you for coming all this way.”

Rachel suddenly felt guilty for her earlier rant. “Oh, no problem,” she asserted. “Jeremy just—I don’t like having guns pointed at me,” she admitted.

“Jeremy thinks very highly of you,” Charlotte went on. “He talked about you a lot while we were waiting.”

“Three or four sentences in a row?” Rachel joked, and Charlotte smiled knowingly. There was something very melancholy about her though, or maybe it was just exhaustion.

“Well I used to be just like him,” Charlotte revealed, intriguingly, as Rachel rolled her over onto her back. “I mean, what do we need conversation skills for? You might think maybe _I_ would need them, but it turns out a lot of men don’t really care what you’re saying as long as you look right.”

“You’re really an agent?” Rachel asked with mild disbelief. “I mean, from the same program as Jeremy?”

“I _was_ ,” Charlotte corrected, closing her eyes as Rachel worked. “I was, and then I was captured.”

The door opened again and Jeremy entered, efficiently resecuring the perimeter before distributing the supplies he’d brought, starting with coffee with a straw that he held up for Rachel.

She took a few quick sips. “That’s the ticket. Thank you, Jeremy.”

“I found you some acceptable clothing,” he told Charlotte, and the two women made eye contact, wondering what he considered ‘acceptable.’ “Can she eat?” he asked Rachel, who indicated yes, and he produced an orange.

“You know if you keep eating those you’re going to _turn_ orange,” Charlotte teased.

“Like an Oompa Loompa,” Rachel added. The mental image caused them both to giggle, even more once they saw Jeremy’s expression.

“Oranges contain vitamins and minerals, plus water and sugar, in a relatively portable—“

“I know,” Charlotte told him warmly, putting her hand on his. “Can I have some?”

“Yes.” He was already peeling it assiduously.

“I’m almost done here,” Rachel told them. “You got any injuries I should look at, tiger?” A ghost of a smile flickered across Charlotte’s face.

“No,” he claimed.

“Show her your hand,” Charlotte admonished lightly. Jeremy dutifully held it up. “It’s an electrical burn.”

“It doesn’t hurt,” he said, feeding Charlotte a piece of fruit.

“Well, I’ll put some burn cream on it in a minute,” Rachel promised.

“Jeremy and I worked as partners, didn’t we?” Charlotte reminisced.

“I thought the agents usually worked alone,” Rachel commented.

“They do now,” Jeremy replied, in a tone that was somehow significant.

“We had a lot of adventures,” Charlotte went on, watching him fondly. Rachel got the sense she was trying to convey far more beyond the simple words. “I could always depend on Jeremy.” He frowned, then stood abruptly and went to the mirror window, staring hard at it. Charlotte looked like she was sorry she’d spoken, but continued anyway to Rachel. “I was captured on a mission, three years ago. I’ve been in a state prison.”

Rachel nodded. “Maybe I should run a disease panel—“

“If I had anything I’m sure it went away on its own,” Charlotte demurred.

“TB?” Rachel questioned dubiously. Charlotte shrugged. “Well, Jeremy did regrow a tooth,” she admitted.

“Yeah, he’s good like that,” Charlotte agreed. “I might have a vitamin deficiency, though,” she hinted, glancing towards Jeremy.

Rachel played along. “Well, I wish we had a good source of vitamins and minerals around here,” she said regretfully.

Jeremy came back over and sat down, feeding Charlotte another slice of orange. “You could just ask,” he pointed out, with a hint of peevishness that made the two women smirk.

“All done,” Rachel announced, taping down the last bandage. She gave Charlotte a once-over. “I should check your eyes,” she suggested.

“It’s important,” Jeremy encouraged, even though Charlotte wasn’t planning to object.


End file.
